You didn’t know we had a Minneapolis Bureau, did you?
I am, of course, first and foremost interested in all things local, I
also keep an eye out for interesting goings-on in the para-San Anto
world. To this end, I got friends Up North, such as comic/writer Lori Mocha.
She often brings interesting things to my attention, such a story of
hope and heroism and the human spirit and shit. Go ahead and read
it—it’ll take you, like, three minutes ⎯ then come right back here.
week, my hero was this lady at the Firestone on Broadway, who took a
nap right there in public while they replaced her tires:
this week, it’s Kent Fenske for a valiantly unmacho fearlessness…and,
also, Mr. Brown, for resisting his worst impulses. You don’t always
have to listen to those voices in your head, people.
Here’s what Lori had to say about it:
Lori: “Who are you?” “I am your worst nightmare.” I don't know why, but that cracked me up. Then the victim offers him some tea.
Me: Like "okay, crazy burglar, lemme try treating you as a human being."
Then the gunman hugged him goodbye! Omg! Then the perp came back and
said he was upset about the guy contacting the cops. The story is
absurd: “Thanks for the tea, but did you have to call the cops? I
thought we were friends!”
Me: But then he managed to talk him down AGAIN!
Lori: I know! I would be a basket case if "my worst nightmare" kept visiting.
Me: I HATE IT WHEN MY WORST NIGHTMARE COMES TO MY HOUSE. I **NEVER** GIVE HIM TEA, AND HE NEVER HUGS ME.
Lori: Hey it's me again, your worst nightmare, can I have some tea and call my mom?
Me: Anyway, that story is fucking genius, thanks.
Lori: Yeah, I saw it on the news tonite. Good stuff.